


Black Eyed Susan

by YourBonesShallCrackBeneathMyHeel



Category: DC Extended Universe, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Dark, Disfigurement, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Hurt/Comfort, Impregnation, Love/Hate, Mild S&M, Miscarriage, Other, Past Torture, Romance, Rough Sex, Smut, Tragic Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 23:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17928539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourBonesShallCrackBeneathMyHeel/pseuds/YourBonesShallCrackBeneathMyHeel
Summary: Their story was one of obsessions, fixations, the danger and heartaches born from damaged minds and twisted psyche's.What it would take? For Victor to love someone, and what that love would look like?





	1. Chapter 1

He'd been watching her for days, her appearance had changed in some subtle ways, and more drastically in others. It angered him that it had, and at the same time it raised his curiosities. For instance, her hair, she had dyed it to match her eyes. Shades of medium grey to almost white with the slightest hints of purple. That was acceptable, but it was short, he didn't like it short. It was functional for her current occupation at a bakery. It made her look… Mature… all grown up. Was that what bothered him? In most of the memories he had visited the years they had been apart she looked so very young. She would soon be in her twenties, no longer a child, not that she ever had been one. She was no longer too thin, pale and gant, finally her body was one of a woman. She was as beautiful as ever, just different. Still he didn't like it. Especially  the short hair. Even though it was longer than the last time he had seen her. That had been three years ago and, by his calculations it could have grown thirty inches. Her hair grew at almost twice the average rate. It reached her waist when they first met, she kept it in braids then. While he had been waiting for her, he passed the time recalling that night, almost eight years ago. He had caught her by one of her braids as he moved to cover her mouth with a cloroform stained rag. She dropped instantly, faster than she should have. He had barely brought it to her nose. He had contributed it to her physical condition at the time. He barely felt the 11 year old Susan Black's extra weight as he carried her out of Arkcume.

  
THEN   
  
He had been ordered to collect her to use as leverage against her adoptive parents. They were older and in failing health, they wouldn't withstand questioning long. So she was to be tortured in their stead, if it came to that. Falcone had ordered him to use it only as a last resort.   
  
More often than not being in his toy room started people talking, well begging mostly. But he had a feeling the couple (that were seen as pillars of the community) were tough, callous, and nasty beneath the church going hard candy facade. She had been part of that shiny veneer, until she got sick. Til they just suck her in Arkcume. He knew the type, he had been born into a family just like them. A long familiar history of antisocial personality sociopaths. When they all died (incidentally not by his hand) he came to the realization that he wasn't the kind sociopath that became a CEO. He'd felt… actually he hadn't felt anything when they died. Well not for them, didn't miss them. He paused to wonder (at the time) why he had survived, the obvious being he was more physically fit and observant than most. He spent most of his life pushing boundaries, finding what little pleasure he could in a world that seemed mostly gray. Still any number of things could have caused his death in the cruise line accident. Well a more permanent death. He was brought back by some boy scout younger than he was.   
  
Dying had been wonderful. He'd Never felt such ecstasy, such Joy and peace, such freedom. As soon as he got his bearings he had attacked the kid then jumped back in the river. He wasn't trying to drown or kill himself, he just wanted to be away from everyone and if he died of exposure who'd care? But once again he lived. 

What first came to mind, when he woke on the shore? It was how much better off the world would be if he and everyone else on board were dead and gone. A thought that continued to build upon over the next months. Long story short, Victor soon came to the conclusion that it was his destiny, his mission to rid the world of useless filth. Why else would he still be living. Humans… humanity is a joke and a lie, he'd never met one truly worth living. He quickly honed his craft, his murders were masterpieces of enlightenment. Each one recorded in his skin. To keep from boredom dulling the taste of success he expanded quickly, Hitman, torturer, ever improving and adding to his repertoire. There was no better place than Gotham to continue his work, his life   
Susan's parents had been pleading ignorance. Laying it on thick, going on and on about how old and feeble they were. How they couldn't be a threat to Falcone… blah blah freaking blah. Having killed plenty of the elderly, he knew how they acted… How they responded to the threat of death and bodily harm. He had never been discriminative about how or who he killed. Though at first he favored a knife or straight razor to a throat. His first kills being homeless persons and a few young woman that came sniffing around for his families sizeable fortune. He didn't target either, they just happened to be around when he was "moody". He poured his money into his craft. ...And gaining the knowledge needed to get away with it… The rest gambled away…    
But we must be getting back to Susan!   
So there they were, annoying and pathetic, Mrs Black was actually praying. And when he wheeled little frail looking Susan into the room on the gurney, Instantly she began crying and redoubling her efforts in earnest   
_ Perhaps they do care about… _ but that thought stopped as soon as he turned his eyes back towards the little girl. She had gotten out of the restraints "Unexpected" Victor said aloud. She should have been out for at least another hour. Her escape from the jacket was also surprising. Though buckles weren't much to begin with. He should have known better than to trust the asylum's gear. He stepped in front of her to put her in a pair of his leather cuffs but paused at her smile. He knew that smile, it mirrored his own when it was time to play. She winked at him than began convulsing. It was faked, but a very good job, without the wink before hand he would have believed them to be real. She started making ungodly sounds, ending in a low and deep growl. The convulsions stopped, her body contorted into a unhuman shape and froze. Both the Blacks were hysterical by this point. It was a good day when he would get someone to this point without having them lose consciousness at least once. He silently laughed, she was doing all the work for him. Amused and curious he stepped back and let little Susan do her thing. Her body relaxed, as she sat up her eyes were white, she still had them rolled in and upward. It was a neat trick, really pulled the whole exorcist routine together. Mrs Black fainted, her husband promised everything under the sun "Just put her back, just put her back!" Worried he might have a heart attack before the information was gotten Victor picked up the little demon girl. She vallutted off his chest to the ceiling, grabbing on to a winch. It looked like she was crawling on the ceiling the way she moved along the beam. Victor followed beneath her, when she stopped her head seemed to twist passed the point of breaking. So her blank white eyes would stare down into his darkened by a sickly humor.   
"Ehem!" He cleared his throat as he gestured for her to come down. She hissed at him. Causing him to chuckle. "I won't be ask-" before he could finish her limp body dropped. He managed to catch her enough to stop her skull from shattering. Her eyes were half open, big grey and unblinking. She didn't seem to be faking this, totally comatose. "Huh… interesting…" Maybe none of it was an act. Or it all could be, he didn't care, either way she was interesting.

She was returned in the end, her parents killed once the information needed was gathered and confirmed. Mr Black had been cheating on accounts, supposedly to pay to keep her in Arkcume. It had effected Falcones bottom end, not acceptable. That money was returned, yet in a twist of fate their combined life insurance policies would pay for Susan's life long care…

So... Happy ending.   
  
She walked back willing, to the van, to Arkcume, to the nest in a tiny little cell. Not once had her bare feet miss step. Though they passed over gravel and broken glass. Some might watch a captives eyes or face to judge if they are going to try to run. Victor always watched their feet. Her's seemed to always be dancing without letting the rest of her body know. When they guided her perfectly, so why should she care. Most of the time her eyes were closed, or dead unblinking. There was a story, a reason why, at the time he didn't care. It wasn't his job to, it wasn't his unholy calling.   
Victor didn't think about her again after she was returned. He didn't forget her either, so when he ended up in Arkcume three years later she was one thing he was looking forward to. He soon learned she was rather famous, "Black Eyed Susan" was what they called her. From the many lobotomies she had been given over the last six years. Apparently they never worked. Something else that was quite apparent, she had free run of the place. Seemingly to be able to walk through walls, her ability to escape went beyond artistry to pure magic. Dr. Strange kept her there by the cocktail of "medicines" he had her strung out on. It was so complicated she could die if they weren't given on time. In a few lucid moments she helped him escape for a price, for him to return and help her escape when she was fifteen. If they hadn't manage to kill her by then. She was sure she would know the rest of the formula by then…   
  
Now   
  
Three months ago he had her move back to Gotham. One morning she received a letter stating she was returning. Her two weeks notice already given, her lease agreement taken care of. Bank accounts switched over. That was how things had always been. Victor took care of it, end of story. He demand complete control of her. What she'd wear, eat, what she would do, where she would go. Or more accurately, not go, not do, not wear. In the beginning she was almost feral, on very bad days she was tied down to keep her from hurting herself. It was his treatment of her that saved her from the purgatory of her mind. As the poison that had been fed to her most of her life worked its way out of her body. He had been her rock and ruler, all consuming, and hand in hand with that consumption was his desperate need for her. As long as he laid claim to her body and soul, she would own just as much of him, forever in his thoughts and what little was left of his own soul. To be clear ownership wasn't something he had taken, it had been given. Within her twisted world behind hospital and insane asylum walls they had never been able to break her. She was not one to go quietly into the night. Never before had he met such a strong will. A cool hum of power, that could blaze the world to ash. She always repaid in kind, wrongdoers obliterated, the merciful and kind were blessed with her grace and protection.   
Being a stranger to the world on the other side of the metal bars and bullet proof glass she needed him to guide her. Her intuition was spot on. But her reactions had to be tempered to society. A job Victor never would have dreamed of, teaching someone to be less ruthless, to control a blood lust for vengeance….To "play nice


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repetitive(speech pattern) style of writing is my interpretation of a whirling mind. Even though the point of view is omnipotent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints of what is yet to come. Next chapter will have dubious consent ect.

 

He had "stepped back" to only observed her as she settled into Gotham once more. Learning her habits, getting a feel for the little changes in her tells. He had to know what she would react to, be able to anticipate her every move. He had been planning their reunion since she left, everything  **_had_ ** to be perfect...

 

Though he had visited her when she lived in Maine, then Florida, he never interacted with her directly. Like an Alcoholic that constantly found themselves sitting in a bar, staring at the drink they ordered, but never drinking from it. If he tasted her again he'd never want to pull himself away. So he enjoyed the agony of looking, but never touching. He'd leave her presents, most of them were tests of some sort. Like he was trying to trick her into doing or becoming something that would make him want her less. 

He also rearranged her various dwellings. Getting rid things he didn't like, smashing or burning them. Obliterating whatever he didn't want in her life. Their life. Didn't matter if it was clothes, furniture, food, shampoo, or people. He wanted it gone, he made sure it was. Susan went long with his obsessive need to control, for the most part. But there were somethings she didn't budge on. She never got rid of something he gave her, she'd put it in storage. He would take out, she'd put it back. He'd destroy something, she'd replace it (if it was something she really liked). He had just gone through her new apartment. He left his usual signal to let her know he'd been there. When he sent her away she was instructed to leave and never come back to any her apartments if so much as one piece of paper was out of place, or something felt off. With the exception of him having been there. She wasn't allowed to draw attention to herself, not until she came home. Came back to Gotham.

  
Yesterday she had killed one of Fish Mooney's men. It was really more like she’d done Fish a favor. He was a particularly useless piece of meat. However the way she handled herself got Fish's attention. She had sent Gilzean with a car and driver to meet her. Victor didn't expect she'd go herself. Just as Butch left, Victor appeared before Fish.   
  
"Fuck!" She half screamed   
  
"No. Tell Butchy to forget the girl. No. Me. No. It's good for your health! And No, no, no. " Fish blinked dumply   
  
"Beg pardon?" her hands moved down from her chest over her heart, which she had clutched when startled by the Hitman. They now rested on her hips, a mask of control back in place.   
  
"I answered your questions." She looked unimpressed for a woman who could be taking her last breaths.   
  
"I didn't ask any-" Her tone of voice was reflective, like she was trying to remember if she had, or what would warrant Victor Zasaz in her private bathroom. He sighed heavily   
  
"Am I here to kill you- No. Why am i here and what do I want? -For you, to tell Gilzean, to forget, the girl! Is this an order from Flacone? -No. Then who wants you to leave the girl alone? -Me. Has this anything to do with business or what Falcone wants? -No. So why should you do what I say? -It's good for your health." He wiggled his hairless brows at her. " And -No, you don't need to know why, no you don't need to worry about it, and no you don't need to speak to anyone else about this. Excuse me, you have a call to make…" He turned to leave.   
  
"Victor…" He stopped but didn't turn. "If she's one of your girls, that's all that needed to be said. I respect yu…"   
  
“NONE OF YOU RESPECT ME!" He shouted out in a growl. Then continued in a low whisper. "Most fear me, others hate or hunt me. I have no illusions about why I am useful, why I thrive in this festering whole of a city. Why I play apart in the game. I'm just the bitter pill.” He half turned to face her.

“Something  _ YOU should _ know, even the most twisted insane sadist in Arkham knows you don't fuck around with Black Eyed Susan. She tallorates my company. So constitter this a public service announcement." With his final warning given he disappeared out the door.

 

Nearly two hours had passed since his chat with Fish. He didn't think Susan would be back that night. He taught her better, she might never go back to that apartment. That's what he would have told her to do, if this wasn't Gotham. Because Gotham, now was their home. You defend, fight and kill for what's yours. That was his little Susan. She held the line, no one would ever cross it again.

Once they had driven her out, forcing the only truly beautiful thing he owned away from him. But now  _ they _ were nothing more than ash and bloodstains. He'd burned half of old town down, than put that fire out with the tidal wave of blood he shed over the next four days. His vengeance was what made him Victor Zasaz, THEY Victor Zasaz! The Grim Reaper followed him like the tooth fairy would a meth addicted seven year old. Only in Gotham.  _ Ha ha, roll on snare drum. _

 

Now they could be together, no one would dare take from him again.  Take from them again.

Oh how he savored feeding those men their own fingers. For daring to touch what was his. Suffocating one them with their own severed hand by jamming it down his throat with a baseball bat. He hadn't drawn it out as long as he could have, should have. As long as he wanted to. Susan's safety had been, and will always be his first priority. So playtime was short, fast and blissfully messy. 

It wasn't like she couldn't defend herself now, not like last time. She was a force to be reckoned with. She could deliver her own condemnation. What a site that would be to behold. He'd seen her stare one of the patients and two of the orderlies in the eyes until till they calmly walked to the nearest wall, then rammed their head into it. Not stopping until their skull was caved in. When she was weakened, he had to send her away, to protect her. And perhaps it was an acknowledgement, in a small corner of his mind, somewhere inside him, something he long believed was dead (if it had ever been alive). It told him it was because he was afraid. 

Afraid for her, afraid of her, of what she could do to him. Of what they could do together…

It took him three years, three long years without the sweetest thing he ever tasted! He was finally ready! They could start again, recreate what was taken.

Was she ready?

It didn't matter really if she was. She was strong enough to handle whatever it would take. Whatever monsteress thing he would have to do for that perfect conception.

 

Three and a half years ago. 

 

“You don't have to pay me, I owed you, debt settled, we're done.”

“I'm not.”

“Too bad.” he started to walk away but before he knew what was happening, he was on his back with his favorite blade at his throat. That was the first time she sexually aroused him. 

“Hasn't anyone ever told you not to play with other people's toys, especially without asking?” His tone of voice was bored and detached, but he couldn't conceal the glint of excitement in his eyes.

“The money is for my detox. I need someone who will put a bullet in me if things go sideways. Or even just for the hell of it. I'm perfectly satisfied, alive or dead I'll settle my own debt with the good Doctor.”

“So you don't care if you live or die, so long as it wasn't at his hands?” How boring…” She continued to speak over him. Victor glanced around as if he was looking for something more interesting to do.

“The person I need has to reenact certain tramas, hurt me in very specific ways.” He groaned, rolling his eyes as he moved experimentally. The knife cut him, she had held it steady. A clear sign she was unafraid of hurting, or even killing him. Victor huffed, his facial expression very near a pout.

“There's plenty in Gotham that would be happy to do that, free of charge. But…” He let out another, even more exaggerated sigh. “... I'll hear you out.” She stood up, offering her hand to help him up. His blade in her other outstretched hand. He yanked her down as he snatched back his weapon. “That was really stupid. First you threaten me with my own knife, then you hand it back to me.” He tighten his grip around her throat, clicking his tongue and shaking like he was disappointed of her. “Where were you raised? An insane asylum?”

“You won't kill me.”

“There you go again! You say something like that, now I really want to kill you!” The faintest of smiles upturned the corners of her mouth.

“You like me.”

“Ture. That's never stopped me from killing...”

“This time your curiosity outweighs my annoyance.”

“Interrupted me now! How rude! It's like you want me to cut your throat.” His crushing grip seemed to have little effect to her or her voice. “To shut you up if nothing else.” he added in a sarcastic muttorence.

“Little Zombies all of them, not really alive, just going through the motions. Idiotically fighting freedom from their pathetic existence.”

“So what? You read minds now?” Victor rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time as he began cutting little lines in no particular pattern across her collar bone.

“They crawl and itch, twitch and bubble beneath your skin. That's not why you kill, but it does quiet them for a time.” Victor felt his right eye wanting to twitch. “Every inch of skin feels wrong.” At that, he pauses his cutting. Because what she said was true. That's how it felt, it had always been that way, but now, at that very moment? it wasn't. Like her saying it out loud quiets whatever crawls beneath. He can remember flexing the muscles in his arms, back, neck, and even wiggling his ears searching for that constant gnawing. It was gone. 


End file.
